Marshmallows?
by Josh5674
Summary: Calvin and Hobbes have fun with marshmallows.
1. How Not to Prepare Marshamallows

**A/N: Well, I'm back! I had this weird idea to make a bunch of stories that involve marshmallows. I thought it over, and I decided I'd go along with it anyway. But tell me if you want me to stop.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson and always will. So take that, Calvin and Hobbes movie fans!**

"Hobbes, look!"

Calvin walked out of the kitchen holding a bowl. "Mom bought a packet of marshmallows!"

"Hmm," Hobbes walked over looking interested. The bowl looked very inviting. He picked a marshmallow up. "This feels like it has something on it."

"Oh don't worry," said Calvin. "All of them feel like that."

"Well, if you say so." Hobbes popped it in. "KHIAJSIJM! SS-W-WE-E—TTT!"

"Oh, yeah, about that. The marshmallows were a bit tasteless, so I sprinkled a bit of sugar on them." Calvin picked up a marshmallow and ate it. "Mmmmm. Pure delight."

Hobbes glared at him.

* * *

><p>"OK. This oughta work." Calvin walked across once agan, holding two sandwiches. "Here, Hobbes. Try this," he said, handing him a sandwich.<p>

Hobbes looked at it strangely. "This doesn't have any sugar, right?"

"Right."

Hobbes took a bite - and spit it into Calvin's face. "EEEEEEWWWWWW! What the heck is this!?"

"I spread a thin layer of nutella over the marshmallows."

"Nutella? Are you _sick_? Who has chocolate with their marshmallows?"

"Well, for starters, _everybody_?"

"Hmpf." Hobbes looked away. "I'm not eating this."

"Fine. Picky, picky."

* * *

><p>Calvin came back with another bowl of marshmallows. "Here. You'll like these."<p>

"Do these have anything on them?" Hobbes asked suspiciously.

"No."

"Do these have anything sugary on them?"

"No."

"Well then, let's dig in!" Hobbes grinned, rubbing his hands

SNARF SNARF SNARF SNARF!

"WACK! THOOO!" Hobbes spat his mouthful out. "WHAT IS THIS?"

"Oatmeal. Why?"

"OATMEAL!"

"Yeah, I stuffed the marshmallows full of oatmeal."

"WHY!"

"I wanted to see how it tasted."

"BLEAH! TAKE YOUR STUPID OATMEAL AND GO AWAY!"

"OK, OK!"

"AND IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME PROPER MARSHMALLOWS, I'LL MAKE MY OWN SANDWHICHES!

"OK! Jeez!"

* * *

><p>Calvin came back with another bowl full of- you know. Marshmallows.<p>

Hobbes glared at him. "Do these have anything weird inside?"

"No."

"Anything weird on the outside?"

'Nope-sies."

"Fine. BUT - if there's anything weird inside, I'm going to spit it in your face."

"OK."

Hobbes picked up a marshmallow and ate it. "THOOO! NOW WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I put pickles inside."

"PICKLES? YOU TOLD ME THERE WAS NOTHING WEIRD INSIDE!"

"Pickles aren't weird, are they?" said Calvin, rubbing the pickle/marshmallow off his face.

"THEY MOST CERTAINLY ARE! FROM NOW, I MAKE MY OWN MARSHMALLOW SANDWICHES! AND YOU HAVE TO EAT THEM!

"OK, fine! Some people just don't appreciate art.." muttered Calvin as he walked away.

* * *

><p>"Mmmm! There's nothing I like better than a delicious tuna-mayo-marshmallow sandwich, don't you?"<p>

Calvin glared at Hobbes and tried to stomach another bite of the disgusting concoction.

**THE END**


	2. Doctor Who is Better Than This Chapter

**A/N: JAMBO! Sorry, I really wasn't planning to update this story, but then I remembered that I had said that I was going to post more chapters. So here you go! Oh, and Rory Williams is cool. And so are bowties, but I think sombreros are cool, so you should take my opinion with a grain of salt.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson does, nor do I own Twilight or Doctor Who, Stephanie Meyer and the BBC own them, respectively.**

There was a yell of pain, belonging to one, namely Hobbes "Opposable Thumbs" Tiger. His self proclaimed nickname made him unique - or so he thought. But more on that later. Let us get back to the yell of pain and what possibly might have induced it.

"You just had to bring that bag of marshmallows along, didn't you?" Hobbes muttered from the ground. Calvin was standing in front of him, with a stunned expression.

"I thought cats landed on their feet!" he said, dumbfounded.

The afore mentioned duo were at the base of the treehouse - the one that played host to various G.R.O.S.S meetings.

See, what happened was that Hobbes had shimmied up the tree, and was waiting in the treehouse for Calvin to turn up so that he could be taunted. The G.R.O.S.S password was a sacred verse, and no dared mock it, save for Calvin. While he was waiting, he decided to arrange the paper hat on his head so that it made him look all business-like. Then, a heavenly smell wafted up. Hobbes' ears and perked up immediately. That wondrous scent could only be one thing - _ marshmallows. _Ah, such bliss, the kind that only be induced by stuffing one's face with sugary candy.

The excited tiger became over-excited. Unable to hold back anymore, he made a leap of faith - right from the top of a tree. As he plummeted towards the ground, he thought of the politics of Bolivia, a truly concerning situation - at least, until he landed on the ground.

"OWWWW!"

And that is the backstory of the yell of pain. Now let us return to the situation we first came across at the beginning of this story.

"I though cats landed on their feet!" said Calvin.

"Oof. So much for myth," Hobbes grumbled. "I thought so too, until you decided to throw me off that cliff that time we went camping."

"Hey!" Calvin protested. "It was all in the name of science! You should be proud for having contributed to such a crucial experiment!"

"Remind me what happened in the end, will you?"

"Dad got mad at us for destroying his and Mom's tent and grounded us for a week when we got back home."

Having made his point, Hobbes pushed himself up and dusted himself off. Then he did a few stretches until he was sure he was not going to be paralyzed. "So, why'd you bring the bag along anyway? Knowing you, I bet we're not going to eat them."

Calvin glared at him. "When did you look into our top secret files!?" he demanded.

Hobbes rolled his eyes. "Calvin, I'm the only other member of G.R.O.S.S."

"For all I know, you could be a spy! And _how dare _you suggest that our club is one that does not have more than 50 people hanging on to our every word wanting to know when they will get the chance to humiliate our enemy?"

"You mean Susie?"

"SACRILEGE! YOU HAVE REFERRED TO THE ENEMY BY NAME! FOR THIS, YOU SHALL BE DEMOTED TO EQUIPMENT MANAGER! AND EVEN THAT IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU!"

"_Me_!?" Hobbes said angrily. "I outrank you! You can't give me demerits! As Club Secretary General, I hereby demote _you _to JANITOR!"

"THAT DOES IT!" Calvin yelled. He ripped open the bag of marshmallows, picked one up and hurled it at Hobbes.

"THAT'S AN INSULT!" Hobbes snatched the bag from Calvin, took hold of several marshmallows and threw them at Calvin. Pretty soon, they were engaged in all-out war, shouting things like "TRAITORS GALORE!", "YOU'RE WORSE THAN TWILIGHT!", "THE ELEVENTH DOCTOR'S BOWTIE IS COOLER THAN YOU!" and "YOU'RE LAMER THAN RORY WILLIAMS!"

And lots more Doctor Who-style insults. One of my favourite ones was, "THE NESTENE CONSCIOUSNESS IS SMARTER THAN YOU!"

Anyway, it went on like this for a while until Susie walked by and saw Calvin and his stuffed tiger, Hobbes covered with a pile of white and pink - literally. And for some reason, the marshmallow bag that they were pulling marshmallows out of was always full.

"I don't know what's weirder," she said. "The fact that you're having a marshmallow war or that your Doctor Who insults are the reason the Master refused to regenerate."

Calvin and Hobbes froze and stared after her. Susie simply grinned, waved and walked off.

**THE END**


	3. Atta' Marshamallow!

**A/N: Okay, I live in India, and CBSE (an Indian education format) students have their final exams in March. I took a couple of hours off to write this, so expect a few typos here and there. My online friend, Cybertiger3000, is also a CBSE student, so he has his final exams as well. So if you're a fan of his story Destination Mind, ****_don't _****expect an update till late March. Now that's out of the way, on to the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson does.**

Calvin scowled as the school bus came to a stop in front of the local elementary school. Another day, another nap, he thought as the bus driver beckoned for him to "get off the bus, will ya? I ain't got all day!"

He slowly trudged along the footpath to the school building. He wasn't normally this mad, but today, his mother had found the water balloons he had oh-so-cleverly-concealed in his lunch bag. He had spent half the night awake, making plans, only to have them dashed by his dastardly dictator of a mother. What a way to start the week.

Calvin walked into the building, then to his locker. When he opened it, his eyes became really wide. He quickly took a look around. There were only about eight to ten students around; most of them had made their way to class. After scanning the corridor, he quickly took another look inside his locker.

It couldn't be. No, it was too good to be true. But there it was, among various drawings, comic books and his Stupendous Man outfit: a packet of marshmallows.

YES! YES! _Now_ this day was looking up.

He started whistling and put his hands in his pocket, trying and failing to be casual. The principal, Mr Spittle, walked by and saw Calvin. He glared pointedly at him.

"I'm watching you, young man," he said.

Calvin grinned sweetly and said, "Me!? What could possibly little old Calvin do?"

Mr Spittle gave him a final glare before walking off again. Calvin quickly snatched the packet and ripped it open. He loaded four marshmallows into his pockets, two each. He slammed the locker shut and walked down the corridor leading to the chemistry lab. When he was right outside, he slipped off his sneakers and pulled his dirty socks off. He hung them inside the door, and closed it. Now the smell would drift out if anyone opened the door.

His next stop was the fuse box, which was luckily right outside Mrs Wormwood's class. He opened it up and flipped off a couple of switches.

His school had upgraded their electricity system recently, and now he could set a timer for when the electricity inside a certain area would go off.

After he was done, he walked into the room.

Mrs Wormwood saw his expression when he walked into the classroom. It was a very "casual" one. She slammed her eyes shut and muttered to herself, "Don't let him get into the teacher's lounge. Don't let him get into the teacher's lounge."

Calvin took his seat between Susie and Ronald and flipped his book open to a random page.

"Alright, Mrs Wormwood! Let's do some learnin'!" he shouted cheerfully.

Next to him, Susie forward and tapped her friend Jessica on the shoulder. Jessica turned back.

"What is it?"

"Calvin's up to something," muttered Susie.

Jessica rolled her eyes."When is he not?"

"Alright, class," said Mrs Wormwood. She took a piece of chalk in her hand and scribbled something on the blackboard, "open your books to page 31 and begin reading."

Suddenly, a smell wafted in. Mrs Wormwood sniffed and said, "They must be burning something nasty in the chemistry lab. I'll be right back." She set her chalk down on her desk and walked off.

Right on time, the lights flickered and went off. The fans stopped spinning as well. Taking advantage of the darkness, Calvin navigated his way to Mrs Wormwood's desk, pulled a marshmallow out of his pocket, split it open and rubbed the material all over the chalk.

The lights flickered on once and Calvin sprinted back to his seat. They flickered twice and then came on again. Mrs Wormwood walked back into the classroom.

"There seemed to be a pair of socks hanging on the door," she said. "They were purple and covered in dinosaurs." Everyone turned to Calvin.

Calvin's eyes went wide. "How could I do anything?"

Mrs Wormwood glared at him as well, but since she couldn't prove anything, she turned back to her blackboard and picked up her now slippery chalk. _This feels really strange_, she thought. She tried to write _1776_, but all that happened was the area of the blackboard became all slippery, with little crumbs of white stuck to it.

Mrs Wormwood threw her chalk down in frustration. "There's something wrong with my chalk," she growled. "Does anyone know anything about this?" She pointed at the mess on the board.

In his seat, Calvin simply grinned. One down, four to go.

**A/N: I know this is really small, but I just don't have the time to write longer chapters at the moment. I'm planning to split his into three parts, with another one end February and then one mid to late March after finals. The second marshmallow will be used in the next chapter, then the third and fourth in the next. Then another oneshot early April, when I start ninth grade. Oh, dude.**


End file.
